Acrid Flight
by acidheat
Summary: [trigger warning, ereri/riren] Cancer. Alcohol. Heroin. Levi. Eren wants to fly from it all – but no one can fly forever. Someday, somehow, your own body will be the one to give up first, and you have to come down.


**future references-  
will contain; gore/violence, mature scenes, opinions/different points of views contrary to popular belief, drug/alcohol abuse, sensitive scenes and lots, lots of metaphorical senses. rating subject to change. ereri/riren.**

* * *

 _ **chapter one; peregrine falcon**_

* * *

Eren wanted to fly.

Had he been a bird, it would be a possible task. Of course, with a small note at the end of the page marked with an asterisk that the bird isn't a penguin, or an ostrich, or any bird that couldn't fly. It must be a flying bird, one that can soar for miles and miles, with energy almost sparking off from the wings like yellow diamond glitter. One that can feel like it can soar forever and ever, lonely and free, independent of the winds nor planes, carefree of any problems.

Science, Mother Nature and karma, of course, didn't allow him to be a bird. Nor did they allow Eren to turn into a bird anytime soon in his life. What they allowed was just a few mere seconds of elevating from ground before being pulled back by this fellow called gravity, and pushed back down to Earth by this guy called weight. The transcendence from the human form to one of a bird was illegally restricted – but for the first time ever, it was not by human laws.

He loved his mother and father, of course, but sometimes he wished that they were birds instead. So he could fly, far, far away…

After a few considerations, two rounds of sharpening pencils, two pages of an A4 notebook, three dozens of words scribbled out and scrawny, spidery handwriting that barely touched the blue lines of the paper, there are a few things that needed to be contemplated in order for him to fly – or, even better, become a bird.

 _1.) Earth's gravity._

Anything that didn't have wings seemed to be floor-bound. He needed to remove Earth's gravity – or, even better, defy it. Of course, there is no possible way, even the hardest way, of removing – or even defying – Earth's gravity. If he wanted to fly without wings, he needed gravity gone; however this obviously wasn't in any way possible. And- by the way, birds don't defy gravity. Which brings us to the next topic.

 _2.) His mass/weight, and body type._

Once upon a time, science hated English. Why? Because English had took the word 'weight' and defined it as ' _how heavy something is_ '. Science, however, shook his head and defined the word 'weight' as ' _an object's relative_ _ **mass**_ _affected by a gravity_ '. Science argued that weight and mass were two different things, but they relate to each other in a way. You couldn't weigh 294 Newtons on Earth and still weigh 294 Newtons on Venus. However, you can have a mass of 30 kilograms on Earth and still have 30 kilograms on Venus, or Mars, or anywhere in space.

And unless you're a scientist; yes, you are confused. This is why English hated science, and vice versa. English screwed everything up and made everything so confusing, muddled up and hard to understand. Science, is of course, crazier and screwier, and is probably the most hated subject in school because it's so complicated, but everything made sense (unless you're talking about how the world is formed; then science can't explain that for sure, and neither can religion) if you explain it within science.

Now, for the sake of having frantic Google searches of Newton-to-Mass conversions, we'll just explain everything in English's definition. Birds, if you rule out penguins and ostriches and dead dodos, are lightweight, and have fewer, hollower bones. The way their bodies are shaped; their legs tucked in while flying, that special curve on their wings and the blanket of feathers that 'catch' the wind and help them fly- those features do not exist in the human body. Especially wings. Wings seemed to be a crucial thing to have to fly.

So the body type wasn't possible, even if he grew his body hair long enough so that it can resemble feathers. But what about his weight? The heaviest bird alive today to fly is the _Kori Bustard_ ; weighing 18 kilograms on average. Eren weighed 30 kilograms – terribly underweight for an eighteen-year-old, no matter how much he ate. But even if he starved himself to 18 kilograms, there's a few things that would become hazardous. One; his bones would be so fragile and poor and would easily break and two; he'd be _under_ -underweight, and be blown off by the wind instead of flying. And being blown off by the wind like a plastic bag is not the same as flying.

 _3.) Planes._

No prizes for guessing. Yeah – planes! Planes. Or parachutes, skydiving, whatever makes you feel like you're flying. But Eren didn't want to be dependent on pilots or machines or instructors. He wanted to be the one who made himself fly. But in all honesty; he wanted so badly to fly; so, _so_ badly that he'd even just give up his stubbornness and board a plane or become a pilot instead of becoming a silly bird. But he could never board a plane, nor would he ever be able to. Why?

 _4.) Cancer. Terminal illness. Weak lungs. Shortness of breath. Lack of oxygen. Coughing up blood. Death, death, death, death, death._

Life wasn't all simple for Eren Jaeger, eighteen, diagnosed with lung cancer and dreading every single day of it. If your room didn't circulate enough oxygen, you must stay on the tubes that gets shoved down your throat and clogs up your nose and gets uncomfortable and you have trouble eating because your nose and your mouth share the same pipe. If you want to do sports then it must only be bowling or table tennis, or you'll run out your lungs and it'd be hard to breathe. Once upon a time you'll lose your hair after growing it out to your shoulders for five years and have your friends gape in horror at you because your head is stark bald. It all hurts; physically, and emotionally.

So why did he want to be a bird? Because he wanted to fly from all these problems. A human with lung cancer can't play British football but a bird with a broken leg can still fly. It seemed selfish, wanting to run from all of his problems. But for once- even if it's just once, if he could just sprout his sleeping wings one day and soar through sunny clouds and breezy winds; even if it would cost his life, he would trade it all for one trip through the skies. The problem?

 _5.) The loved ones._

It all comes down to one resolution; if he wants to fly, then he'll have to trade his life for it. But is his life really worth giving away for such one, short trip? If there was some sort of metaphorical scale that weighs flying and trading his life on one side, and what remains of his life and his family and friends on another, which one would be heavier?

Eren wants to fly from it all – but no one can fly forever. Someday, somehow, your own body will be the one to give up first, and you have to come down.

* * *

Armin Arlert is Eren's next-door neighbour, and his first friend, and probably his only one ever friend that stuck with him since he was diagnosed with cancer.

Blonde, timid. Sheepish and screams like a girl, always jumping on his seat as if he had pins under his couch. Eren used to beat the mental hell out of him good time back in first grade; little fists connecting to hollow jaws, because Armin was such a small scrap and he cried at the smallest of things: The dark. Fictional monsters. Tripping over his own foot. It wasn't until third grade that they actually made friends at all – because somehow, they both found out that they liked the same things and had the same ideas: they both wanted to fly.

"But you have nothing to fly from." Eren had said one day, wheezing his chest out after he finished his chemotherapy, hands doubled over his stomach and trying not to vomit all over the blonde's grandpa's car. "Why fly from something non-existent? Look at you – good grades, good reputation…"

"I have no reason, really." Armin half-shrugged, hands hidden under the oversized sleeves of his grey sweater. "I've always wanted to… be a part of a flock, you know."

He fidgeted as he watched him. "But if I can't be a part of one, then I'd fly alongside you."

Eren let out a laugh before getting sick all over the front seat and his lap.

It's funny to talk about flying. Which one do you mean, metaphorically or actually flap your wings and fly? Eren never knew which one he wanted. All he wanted was to fly, and if it's a manner of speech or a physical thing he didn't care.

But if he's really flying solo in the actual sky, what bird would he be? Armin was easy to decide: he was a meek yellow canary. Armin suggested him an owl. An owl! Brown, fleek with eyes of molten gold, furiously fast and sharp. Then Eren muttered something about a barn owl and how he would reside with a horse together in the same barn – and the horse was sleekly chestnut but the hair would be blonde, and the face about five inches longer than any other horse in the barn.

Armin fell into peals of laughter. Eren just chuckled; he couldn't laugh unless he wanted to pain his lungs.

Jean Kirschteinn did indeed look like a horse, with a face longer than anyone else. His hair was originally a dark brown but he shaved half the bottom of his hair off and dyed the top blonde. He acted like one too, forever neighing about how handsome he looked (he is, really, but Eren wasn't really interested in dating horses if he was a woman), and the Headmaster's office was his permanent stable considering how badly he behaved in class. However, he was considerably as strong as a… horse. He ran faster than he looked and excelled athletically; and Eren was sometimes overcome with jealousy with the fact that he couldn't run as fast as Jean- or even actually run at all.

That's a whole farm to talk about.

But there was another bird. Another more, powerful bird, much more powerful than the Owl. It flies faster than you can blink and would be forever lone in its flight – and rumours say the this bird tears up an owl bird in half and eats what's inside of the owl until there is nothing left; just skin and feathers.

Alongside Eren, is a Hawk that can fly faster than him; one that can wrestle him onto the floor and swallow Armin whole.

But the problem is, this hawk can really fly. Really, really fly.

And he could tear Eren apart, feather by feather, and flesh by flesh.

It was a sunny afternoon, Eren doing his chores on the front garden, with tubes plugged up his nose just in case he fainted up-straight dead in the middle of the mossy ground. Armin was somewhere with his grandpa doing fishing and whatnot, and Eren's parents were away for work for the day. When suddenly this guy honked the truck the living hell out of him and he dropped a flowerpot, screaming a swear word before hopping and cradling his leg to soothe his poor toe. A white van pulled up next door – not on Armin's side of the house, but the empty house next to him, on the right side of his house.

The house had always been empty, boarded up with planks of wood. No establishment whatsoever had been made to the house and it stayed like that for as long as Eren had known. But the van that pulled up in front of it didn't seem like a moving van. It seemed like… some sort of _van_ van? It looked sort of thuggish. And the people that came out of it seemed thuggish too; a teen about his age and a much taller woman dressed up in hoodies and tracksuits as if they were drug dealers. They're probably drug-dealers themselves too, considering how many layers of bags were under their eyes. Only those two people in total marched out of the van, before the driver honked loudly again and drove off.

It couldn't be a moving van, since it just drove off without even unloading any furniture or any sort of belonging. But the two people gazed up at the house, and Eren stared at them with a raised eyebrow.

One of them gazed back, and straight away, Eren knew.

He had eyes like a hawk, and it seemed to pierce right into his soul; as if he _knew_ who Eren was. Eren seemed to be caught in trance, his teal eyes turning molten, dropping the flowerpot. They both froze and stared at each other for what seemed a very long, long time, before Eren felt his eyes water and he had to blink and breathe. His breaths came out in sharp wheezes and he thumped his chest painfully, picking up the fallen flowerpot before screwing his face into a half-smile half-confused frown. He waved his hand slightly.

"Hi! You guys moving in?" Eren shouted. But the boy and the woman just kept staring at him as if he was a total lunatic. But somehow, Eren knew that they weren't staring at him because he had tubes going up his nose. He stared at him because… because of something else… but what?

But anyhow, Eren's face fell when they gave no response whatsoever, just staring at him, planted to the floor. Eren gave an awkward laugh as he tapped his fingers on the pot. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he tried to joke. But no-one was laughing.

Eren gave a disdainful sigh and shook his head, shrugging. Correcting a tube on his nose, he turned around and went back to work- before a gruff voice called him back.

"Hi." The tone was so thick and gravelly, but at least Eren knew that he wasn't a mute.

The guy, other than his sharp eyes, rather shorter than the woman. He had a slick haircut anyone could be jealous of; jet black, parted in the middle with an undercut. He wore a grey hoodie and black tracksuit and what seemed to be mud-caked shoes. The woman somewhat resembled the guy, but she was far taller – probably taller than Eren, with a red scarf over her mouth and neck. Her hair was also black and shiny, and it fell past her shoulders, her eyes equally as cold and piercing as the other. She looked at least like his older sister, if not his mother. She looked about in her mid-twenties.

After what seemed like a long time of staring at each other, the two climbed up the fences of the front garden of the house next to Eren and climbed inside, and disappeared through the thick hedges like they never existed.

Eren instantly knew what they were;

Squatters.

* * *

The two people stayed in Eren's mind throughout dinner; specifically the short male that had gazed at him so intensely it was like having a thread stabled to both of their eyes.

 _Hawk. Hawk. Hawk. Hawk._

Eren knew the first time he gazed at him, he was also a dreamer; a dreamer to fly. But he knew that he had already achieved his dream of flying, and oh, how _jealous_ Eren was, _he flew solo_! Of course, Eren had his own opinion about squatters. But who cared if he found someone who had actually – _flew_?

The pillow beneath his head was heavy with the thoughts of the male that night. More of admire, than jealousy. He was about to close his eyes and sleep before he heard a low, dull thud.

 _Thud._

 _Thud._

Someone seemed eager to talk to him at the stark time of ten in the evening, and whoever, it was, they were throwing pebbles at his window. It couldn't be Armin, as he's away all day and he was a good boy: he would never throw rocks. Mother and father are away for work, and surely they wouldn't've came home now.

Then who?

Eren pushed away his blankets and sighed, carrying the large tube of oxygen with him. He opened the window and cocked his head just in time as a pebble was aimed at the window, just narrowly missing it as the round thing went past his cheek. He looked down, and, sure enough, it was the squatters next door, the male standing inside Eren's garden while the woman waited outside the fences. Eren almost did a double-take and rubbed his eyes.

Somehow, they've changed into this sort of edgy, blend-in-the-dark clothes. The woman had a leather jacket on, and Eren could just slightly see a fishnet top on her cleavage, and an insanely short skirt and high heels – and she was in a goddamn _motorbike_. The shorter male had a black tank-top with white text that Eren couldn't see from this far away, white shorts that barely covered half his thighs and mismatched shoes. Eren managed not to choke.

"Heya." The male said casually from his garden while Eren tried hard not to gape. He must say: he looked pretty good in that outfit. And- hell, the guy wore eyeliner. It really brought out the colour of his eyes, and it seemed sharper than ever.

"What the hell you think you're doing, throwing rocks at a poor invalid's house?!" Eren roared from upstairs, groaning. As much as he was impressed by their appearance, he was really not bothered to deal with some squatters at this time of night who, not only established a property through an unauthorised way, but also interrupted his sleep and decided to throw rocks on his window.

"Like, you know there's a goddamned door here, right?" Eren choked out, but he smiled. "At least I'm relieved you could talk, though."

The male scoffed and pocketed his hands. "Hmm." He glanced at his sister-slash-mother-or-what and looked back up at Eren. "You wanna come with us?"

"Great. Not only you're mute, but you're also simple-headed and blind. First, I got this- this thing hanging round my nose, see?" Eren stabbed a finger onto his tubes. "Two, I don't even goddamn know you, and you're already hanging out on my garden and asking me out like it's an old friend's birthday party. My short answer is: no, _thank you_."

Eren was about to slam the window shut before he spoke again.

" _I'll teach you how to fly_."

The tubed boy stopped short, and stared at him. How did he-

"F-Fly-? What?" Eren laughed hollowly. "Look, listen-"

"I know you." He said again. "Come with us. I'll teach you how to fly." He gazed up at Eren- it felt more like a command than a request. He shrugged. "But obviously though, no hard feelings if you don't-"

"Fine! Fine. You win." Eren sighed in defeat. _Stranger danger_! His head screamed. He hadn't even known the guy and he was already hitching him a ride to somewhere. But his words – _I'll teach you how to fly_ – sounded like he was taking him to goddamn Valhalla, and he couldn't refuse. But there was one thing.

"Okay, but like- I have, uh, lung problems?"

"We know from the looks of it." The male frowned. "We're not going to make you jog a dozen laps around England, kid. If you're taking the ticket, the better get out of your PJ's and dress up like a real boy. You're eighteen, right?"

"Don't tell me it's a club."

"Take it or leave it."

Eren whistled through his teeth. He walked back to his bed and flopped there for a second, thinking over it.

 **"** ** _I'll teach you how to fly_** **."**

Deciding that it was now or never, he slammed open his wardrobe door. He yanked out all the nasty tubes from his nose and threw them off. Stripping of his PJs, he threw on a black top and a black leather jacket that hung past his waist and ended slightly above his knees, and black shorts (not as short as the short boy's, however, thank God). He grabbed his backpack, shoved his oxygen tank in it and plugged the tubes back up his nose, fishing out his trainers.

He already felt like he was growing wings- ready to take off into the black skies. He felt like a night owl.

When he emerged from the door, it was the guy's turn to almost do a double-take. His hands seemed to scan him head to toe before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply.

"Whoah." The boy whistled. He tutted between his teeth. "Impressive."

Eren scoffed, and followed him out of his house. Turns out that he had a motorbike of his own too, parked next to the tall woman. The boy climbed his motorbike (with difficulty, as Eren discovered that he was at least one clear foot taller than the guy), and motioned Eren to climb too.

"What am I supposed to do, wrap my arms around your waist?" Eren joked. But the guy nodded, and Eren's face fell into a puddle on the streets.

"What?!"

"Just goddamn do it." The male frowned. Eren, having no choice, climbed up behind him and put his arms around his waist awkwardly, trying to angle his crotch away from his ass as far as possible. He made sure that his tubes won't fall off.

"By the way- I didn't catch your name." Eren said, looking at his shoulders. He suddenly noticed that there were two large tattoos of wings covering his biceps, and the tips of the feathers stretched onto his elbows.

 _Hawk wings. Peregrine Falcon._

"Levi."

"Eren." The boy behind him said. "So, where are we going, mister stranger?"

"Where are we going?" Levi smirked as he cricked and rolled his neck, roaring the engine to life. "We're going to change your life, _Eren_!"

So with a jolt of Levi's hand on the handle bars, they zoomed off- somewhere, with the wind blasting off Eren's face and whipping his chocolate hair as if he stood directly in front of a large fan.

And, just for a few moments, just for a few short, sweet minutes, Eren really felt like he was flying.

* * *

 **reviews, hate comments and suggestions appreciated. Or whatever you want to throw at me. preferably food would be good.**

 **stay tuned;  
acidheat**


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